The beta’s mouth stretches into a slow, arrogant smile. “Oh, you will, Miss Sinclair. You will.”
My beast’s instincts immediately rear up. Is he fucking threatening me?
He stands, and I stand up too, both of us still holding the phones. “Alpha Bowen has added unlimited funds into your prisoner’s account to ensure that you’re comfortable while you’re here,” he says, shocking the hell out of me. “He’s also arranged for you to have some luxuries added to your cell. He hopes you enjoy them.”
I gape at him. “He can’t fucking bribe me.”
The beta shrugs, unconcerned. “You get more privileges, fitting of an alpha leader’s mate.”
“I’m not his mate!” I hiss.
“Have a pleasant day, Miss Sinclair.”
“Suck on a shit-covered rock,” I fire back.
His silver-tipped tail flicks as he hangs up the phone and smoothly walks away.
I sit back down in a rush, my knees practically giving out as the adrenaline from our verbal contest drains out of me. I hang up the phone and rest my head in my hands. Fucking Alpha Bowen and his fucking arrogance and barely-there threats. Why the hell can’t I get away from this dude? You’d think a girl getting herself thrown into prison would be a big enough hint for him.
The door behind me opens, and I swing around to find Sandbag ready and waiting. I guess that means I’m done with the visits for today.
“Come,” he barks at me like I’m a dog, and I’m tempted to rip the phone receiver off the wall and junk punch him with it.
Instead, I do as I’m told. The memory of magical tasers keeps me in line. Well, that and the fact that I really don’t want to go back into solitary. My shop is officially opening for business tomorrow, and with all the work I’ve been putting in, I can’t wait to see the other inmates go mental trying to get their hands on the kickass shit that I’ve got. I need to be smart, no matter how much this guard pisses me off.
Sandbag pushes me to walk in front of him. It’s a favorite game he likes to play where you have to guess where you’re supposed to be going and if you guess wrong, he punishes you. Usually, an inmate will earn a well-placed kick to the knee or a slap to the back of the head. It’s just enough to piss you off and rob you of your power, but not enough to leave any lasting marks that could be used as evidence in the event that an inmate tried to report him.
One of the few things I look forward to when I do get out of here is tracking this fucker down and letting my cockatrice play with him.
The smell of food reaches me just before the hallways converge, leading to either the cafeteria or my cell block. I let my nose lead the way, and I’m surprised when no smacks or jabs come at me. Sandbag pushes me to join the line for food and then leaves. Relief washes through me when he disappears around a corner. The dude pisses me off and gives me the fucking creeps.
I grab a lunch tray and wait patiently for my turn to get a bologna sandwich, mac ’n cheese, and some cinnamon apples scooped onto my tray. The chatter and noise of socializing inmates enjoying their meals helps lift my spirits, and I try to not let myself be too weighed down by the problem with my lounge and the problem with Alpha Bowen. I’ll find a way to fix it all. I know I will. I won’t be a coward and hide away like Rook accused me of doing. I’ll figure out a way to solve all of this.
Sophie the wolf shifter scoots over for me as I slide into my usual spot with the crew. Zen smiles at me around a mouthful of gooey baked cinnamon apples, and I giggle at the blissed-out look on her face. I’ve never seen Zen go gaga for the food here like I always do. Maybe I’m rubbing off on her.
“Where have you been?” Sophie asks me.
“I had visitors,” I answer and then turn back to Zen. “Have you heard back from your guy about that thing I asked him to look into?” I inquire hopefully.
She swallows her bite, and her face falls when she looks down at her tray and sees that her plate is empty. She looks so sad that I push my tray